


Hot Chocolate

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Hot Chocolate, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27880170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: Hermione makes Harry some proper hot chocolate.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32
Collections: Harmony Advent Collection 2020





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the **Harmony & Co.** facebook group's advent fest. Special thanks to **L** for the once-over. [This](https://www.wellplated.com/french-hot-chocolate/) is the recipe that I followed for the hot chocolate (minus the espresso powder since Hermione was using proper European chocolate) that Hermione was making. Merry Holidays!

"No no no. You're doing it all wrong," Hermione said, taking the mug away from Harry and dumping the contents into the sink before Harry could stop her.

"It's hot chocolate, Hermione. You can't do it _wrong_ ," he said exasperatedly as he watched the brown water and lumps of undissolved chocolate swirl around before heading to the drain.

She whirled around and gave him the most affronted look he had ever seen before pushing him away from the stove. Harry backed up against the pantry cupboard until that too seemed to be in her way. He dodged her determined steps and started to think about how much easier things would have been, space wise, if he'd just moved into 12 Grimmauld when the battle at Hogwarts was over like everyone had expected. That kitchen had been spacious and easy to navigate. The only problem was that the house had been cold and draughty and full of memories he wasn't quite ready to remember.

So his own flat it was.

It was just a studio; he didn't need more than that and at least he could say that it wasn't under the stairs. Plus he had his own tiny kitchen. There was even a washer so he didn't have to haul all of his laundry down to the laundromat on the corner and try and explain the spell damage to the nice asian lady who took in clothes and returned them fresh and folded. Though sometimes he took them regardless. She didn't need to know why the holes in his cloak were still smoking and not having to fold his own laundry was a huge bonus in his opinion.

"You have absolutely none of the right supplies," Hermione said, her head deep in the pantry.

"I do so," Harry protested, pointing at the purple Cadbury tin that sat on his counter. "Mix. And water. It's not that difficult."

Hermione pulled her head from the pantry and looked at him before turning her horrified gaze to the bright purple container. "That isn't fit for proper hot chocolate," she announced and closed the door to the pantry, summoning her jacket. "I need to pop over to the shop."

And without warning, she vanished. Harry shook his head and looked at the purple canister and the kettle before dumping out the rest of the hot water and shelving the Cadbury's. He left the kitchen and returned to the main room which was a combination of both bedroom and sitting room. On his bed, which doubled as a sofa, Harry spotted the boxes that Hermione had brought with her when she came over. Each had a little label on the front in her neat handwriting. Lights. Garland. Ornaments. Miscellaneous.

He hadn't planned on decorating for the holidays. Mostly because his flat was small and he didn't see any place where he might be able to fit any sort of Christmas cheer. But also because he was exhausted and decorating, even participating in the holiday, felt overwhelming. He hadn't even mentioned his intent to blow off the Weasley Christmas lunch. But Hermione would have none of that and promptly announced she was bringing over a "few things" for him. Though a "few things" turned into four full boxes and when he'd seen them, he'd told her it was too much. But she'd said something about there never being too much and anything they didn't use she would take home with her again.

"It's your first Christmas in your new flat, Harry. We have to go all out the first year."

Glancing toward the kitchen briefly and the cupboard with the Cadbury's that he could have easily made himself, Harry puffed out his cheeks. Then he returned his attention to the task at hand and opened the box marked garland. A chuckle rumbled just under his ribs because each of the sparkling strands were in red and gold. So not only would his flat be 'properly decorated for the holidays' but would also reflect Gryffindor in all its glory. Some of the pieces were still attached to cardboard from the shop and Harry wondered if Hermione had just gone and bought all this for him specifically.

Pulling his wand from his back pocket, and promptly ignoring the voice of Mad Eye Moody in his head scolding him about losing a buttock, Harry began magically attaching the sparkling garland to the wall. To be truthful, though, he wasn't very good at it. The swags were lopsided and uneven, but they still sparkled, so he found that he didn't quite care all that much. Next came the lights, which were admittedly a lot harder. Magic and electric strands didn't quite seem to manage. So he stood on a chair and looped the twinkling lights over the curtain rod across his window.

The ornaments would have to wait because he wasn't quite sure what Hermione wanted to do with them. He certainly didn't have space for a tree.

Sprawled on the bed, Harry was in the middle of magically racing a green bauble and a glass Father Christmas around the room when Hermione finally returned. He was about to make a comment about the length of time it took for her to just 'pop over to the shop' when he saw the enormous brown paper bags in her arms. Waving his wand, the two ornaments floated back to the box on the table and he swung his legs off the bed to stand. He took one of the bags from her, looking inside as he followed her to the kitchen.

"What is all—" He stopped short and lifted a pot from the bag he was carrying. "Hermione, I have pots and pans."

"You have a total of two, Harry. A fry pan for bacon and stock pot." She held out her hand for the smaller pot that she'd bought. "We needed something smaller, so I got one for you."

Harry watched as she started to unpack. Two bottles, both of which looked like milk, sugar, bars of dark chocolate with some fancy European label all made their way to the counter. Harry pulled up a chair as Hermione set the pot on the stove and flicked her wand at the dial. She added the two milks, one of which she said was heavy cream when he'd asked, and sugar before digging around in the bag he'd been carrying and producing a whisk. She pointed her wand and the whisk started to move around the pan.

"You remember summer between second and third year when I went to France with my mum and dad?" she asked, peeling open a package and removing a large knife from its fastenings. She opened one of the chocolate bars and started to chop.

Harry nodded, reaching for a tiny piece of chocolate that had fallen from the cutting board, which she had also supplied. He popped it into his mouth, keeping to himself the fact that he still had that letter tucked away in all his school things along with just about everything else she’d ever given him over the years. Uncle Vernon had blustered about, saying that it wasn't worth keeping all that blasted garbage, but for some reason Dudley had persuaded his dad to hold onto it.

When Voldemort was gone his cousin had gone as far as seeking Harry out to return it and surprisingly enough they'd stayed in casual contact. It was a strange relationship, but he supposed that family was family. Even if he wasn't their favourite relative.

"There was this little café on the corner from our hotel that made the best hot chocolate I have ever tasted," Hermione continued. "It's taken me ages to find a recipe that produces something close." She paused in her chopping and turned to check on the milk mixture, removing it from the hot element.

Pulling the cutting board toward the edge of the counter, Hermione held the steaming pot just below the edge and began to scrape the chocolate pieces into the mixture. Harry found himself watching with rapt attention. She began to stir and the whole concoction turned a silky shade of brown that he'd never actually seen happen with the powdered Cadbury's. But it wasn't the hot chocolate he was actually interested in. He was watching her more than the contents of the pot. Everything about the expression on her face reminded him of how fascinated and pleased she'd been with herself over a successful potion in school. After a few long moments, he realised that she'd stopped stirring and was looking at him. Harry sat up, his neck going hot.

He'd been staring.

"Normally, I would top this with proper whipped cream," Hermione said slowly, filling two large mugs. She reached into the paper bag and pulled out the last remaining item which was a spray tin of whipped topping. "But I thought it would be okay just this once to skip that step." She gestured to the mugs, both of which Harry had found at a car boot sale just after he moved in. "Which one do you want? 'World's Best Judo Teacher' or 'For Fox Sake'?"

"World's best judo, naturally," Harry grinned, almost overcompensating for his previous gaffe, and made a completely and wholly inaccurate pose (what did he actually know about judo anyhow?) before he reached for the mug.

Hermione swirled a heaping spiral of whipped topping onto the top of the chocolate and once she'd done her own, the two moved to the main part of the flat. She perched on the head of his bed/sofa, glancing around the room. She hadn't really looked at the decorations that he'd put up and judging by the look on her face, Harry was wondering if she was going to announce, like the hot chocolate, that he'd done it all wrong. She said nothing, however, and gestured at him to try the hot chocolate as she balanced her own mug on her knees. Harry raised his mug to her in a slight cheers and took a long sip.

Now there were hot chocolates and there were _hot chocolates_. Harry had always thought that the stuff served at Hogwarts was the best because it was always surprising. Sometimes it had a hint of orange. Sometimes it had a hint of peppermint or hazelnut or something else that made it surprising. But all of those drinks, every single one of them, paled in comparison to what he was tasting now. This was it. She had ruined him forever for hot chocolate.

"It's good, right?" Hermione grinned her fingers curled around the mug so only the orange fox showed between them.

"I think I might hate you now." Harry looked down at his mug and then at her, but quite obviously teasing. "I'm never going to be able to drink anything else. What am I supposed to do with that whole can in my cupboard? I just bought it!"

Hermione shrugged off his mock outrage and took a long sip of her drink. Harry was about to make another comment when she set the mug aside, but couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the slight smear of chocolate that lined the upper half of her lip. Her eyebrows raised and she wiped at her nose, obviously thinking he was laughing at a bit of whipped topping that might have remained. When it came away clean and her eyes narrowed a bit.

"Hang on," Harry said and put his mug on the floor, scooting over on the bed.

Logically, he could have just said something to the effect of her having chocolate on her lip. He could have just finished his drink and turned on the telly so they could watch Alastair Sim's Ebenezer meet with three Christmas ghosts in the BBC1 showing of _A Christmas Carol_. He didn't have to reach across the small space between them and he didn't have to touch his thumb to her lip. He really didn't have to do any of that.

But he found himself doing it anyway. And his thumb dragged across her skin, catching the smear of chocolate.

Hermione's cheeks went very pink and the temperature in the room jumped a little. Harry sat back and dropped his hand to his knee, realizing that he might have just crossed over a boundary that he shouldn't have. He was about to apologise for making assumptions when she lifted her mug and took another drink, her eyes holding his for a very strange, but not uncomfortable, amount of time. When the mug lowered, her lip was again stained with chocolate and she made no move to remove it. Harry lifted his hand again, but stopped when she brushed it away with a light push of her hand.

Leaning to the side, her mug joined the other on the floor and just as her fingers left the ceramic handle, Harry caught her wrist and tugged her close. His mouth found hers quite suddenly and quite easily. He cupped the back of her neck, his fingers splaying into her hair and along her skin. There was this very small moment where Hermione went still and that followed a very small moment of Harry wondering if he'd misread the whole thing.

But all of that hesitation evaporated when her arms curled around him as she kissed him back, tasting of chocolate and warmth and friendship and everything else that made Christmas fantastic.

"I didn't know," he breathed against her mouth, "that this was how you made proper hot chocolate."

"Mmmm," Hermione hummed. "This is exactly the right way. Any other would have been completely wrong. Aren't you glad I was here to correct it?"

Harry pulled her into his lap. "Glad is a word that doesn't even come close to describing how I feel, to be honest."

She draped her arms over his shoulders and bumped her nose against his. "And how would you describe it?"

"Like this," said Harry, cupping her cheek and kissing her again.


End file.
